"Bang! Bang!"
Silas fired repeatedly at the target ten meters away, the revolver's loud report punctuating each pull of the trigger as the recoil slammed against his palm and the web of his thumb.
After emptying all six rounds, he lowered his arm and exhaled deeply, squinting as he looked toward the target.
Three bullet holes were embedded in it.
A fifty percent hit rate. Still needs more practice.
Silas's mouth twitched slightly as he thought to himself.
He flipped open the hot cylinder with his thumb and gave it a shake. The spent casings clattered to the ground with a metallic jingling.
He was currently in a small, enclosed underground shooting range with no one else around. This was the basement range at 3 Zouteland Street.
Most of the facility belonged to the Tingen City Police Department, but this small section was reserved specifically for the Nighthawks' practice sessions.
Silas walked over to the rest area and sat down, placing the revolver on the table and beginning to wipe it down carefully with a handkerchief for maintenance.
Come to think of it, he'd gotten this revolver and the ammunition from Old Neil.
As he maintained his weapon, he recalled that day's events.
Because he'd been frightened by the abnormality on Old Neil's body, Silas had run straight upstairs to find Dunn after the mysticism lesson, not even daring to collect the gun he'd been so eager to get.
He'd originally worried that Dunn would doubt him; after all, Old Neil was a teammate of many years, while Silas was just a rookie on his first day.
But after he carefully described the appearance of those eyes on Old Neil's back, Dunn quickly believed him.
According to Dunn, the image of cold, lashless eyes perfectly matched the description of the evil god at the apex of Old Neil's pathway.
There was no way Silas, who had no background in mysticism, could have invented such a detail.
Since Dunn already believed him, the key issue became how to resolve Old Neil's problem.
How to resolve it?
One word: wait.
Dunn told Silas not to tell anyone for the time being; he would handle things appropriately.
In the meantime, Silas had to maintain his normal state, continuing to attend classes, converse with Old Neil, and learn as if nothing had happened.
So for the next several days, Silas had an extremely difficult time.
He struggled to act as though nothing was wrong, going to work, collecting his gun, receiving training, and joking around with Old Neil, all while those strange eyes on his back glared at him.
It nearly drove him to a mental breakdown. If Silas hadn't maintained a certain level of trust in Dunn, he would have started to suspect Dunn was in cahoots with Old Neil.
The pressure weighed heavily on Silas, giving him even stronger motivation to practice his shooting.
Every afternoon after work, instead of going straight home, he'd come to the range first to practice for half an hour.
Fortunately, tonight was the final deadline.
Silas polished his revolver until it gleamed, then loaded the cylinder one by one with demon-hunting bullets.
After snapping it closed, he slipped it into the holster under his arm.
He stood up and brushed the gunpowder residue from his clothes, took his coat from the nearby rack, and put it on, then left the range and walked out onto the street.
The sun was gradually sinking in the west.
It was quitting time, and the streets grew crowded with people and carriages coming and going, creating quite a lively scene.
Silas merged into the flow of pedestrians, walked along the street for a stretch, entered Old Will's Restaurant to pick up the dinner he'd ordered, then carried the meal box and took a public carriage home.
By the time he got home, most of the gunpowder smell on him had dissipated.
Pushing open the door of 6 Daffodil Street, Silas saw his younger sister Cecilia sitting at the living room table reviewing her lessons.
For convenience while studying, she'd tied her shoulder-length black hair into a ponytail, revealing her fair, slender neck with its graceful, swan-like curve.
Seeing Silas enter, she looked up with a smile.
"You got off work pretty punctually today."
As she turned her head to speak, Cecilia's black ponytail swayed back and forth, quite adorably.
"Unfortunately, not really."
Silas set the meal box on the table. "I have to stand watch tonight. I'll be staying at the company all night and won't be coming home to sleep.
Eat well by yourself, remember to lock the door, and if anything urgent comes up, go find the Moretti family at number 2."
"Stand watch?"
"Right, I have to stay awake all night. Everyone takes turns, and tonight's my turn." Silas explained.
He noticed his sister's smile fading slightly, so he quickly added, "The good news is there's a stipend for standing watch, so I'll get a little extra pay."
"I understand."
Cecilia lowered her head and accepted the meal box. "Just let me know earlier next time. I was waiting to have dinner with you."
Her obedient and quiet manner made Silas feel a bit guilty. He couldn't help giving her a few more reminders before reluctantly heading out the door.
***
By the time Silas returned to Blackthorn Security Company, night had completely fallen.
In late August or early September, the nighttime temperature was just right. He walked into the company lobby, welcomed by the cool evening breeze.
"Oh! Silas, it's you. Good evening."
Rozanne greeted him from behind the desk. This girl was unexpectedly easygoing.
After discovering that Silas really wasn't some weirdo, and after chatting with him a few times, she'd quickly warmed up to him. Now they could talk and laugh together.
"Good evening. Have you had dinner?"
Silas casually returned the greeting, then turned and entered the break room, closing his eyes to rest on the sofa bed.
He'd told his sister Cecilia he was working the night shift, but in reality, it wasn't his turn to guard the Chanis Gate tonight.
Actually, he'd come here tonight because Dunn had specifically instructed him to keep quiet and wait for notice.
Before long, the break room door opened and someone walked in. The newcomer had long black hair and a cold expression. It was Royale, whom Silas had met before.
"Ms. Royale, your injury has healed?"
Silas said. The other party's steps were steady, her expression still somewhat weary, but her spirits seemed good.
"Mm, basically no problems."
Royale replied, sitting down on the sofa across from Silas and looking at him with considerable curiosity.
When they'd previously met in the break room, Silas had still been someone under protection.
Now, however, he'd suddenly transformed into her teammate. The world truly was a wondrous place.
"I think I still owe you a thank you. Thank you for saving me."
Although she'd been unconscious at the time, based on others' descriptions, if not for Silas, she might have been torn apart and devoured alive by the cultists.
"No need to thank me. At the time, I was mainly trying to protect myself."
Silas spoke honestly. "But we're teammates now, and protecting your teammates is only natural, isn't it?"
Royale nodded.
She was about to say something more when the break room door opened once again.
Dunn stood in the doorway, wearing his black trench coat and hat. "Silas, come with me. Oh, Royale's here too? Good, you come along as well."
"Captain, where are we going?"
Half surprised, half confused, Royale stood up and asked.
"We're going to Tingen City Railway Station. A high-level deacon has arrived."
۞۞۞۞
~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones